April 4,

2002

 When the world begins to close in, it’s what begins playing in my head—this idea that , somewhere along the line, without my noticing, I’ve ceased to exist. I remember, when I was living with Liz, I called to her in the next room, and got no answer. But instead of realizing she just hadn't heard, I thought, completely calm, that I'd finally proved it: “Well, there it is. I don’t exist.”